


home

by Marenke



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Drabble, Gift Fic, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24100546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marenke/pseuds/Marenke
Summary: There's a loneliness to Snufkin that's unparalleled.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	home

**Author's Note:**

> for aster

There's a loneliness to Snufkin that's unparalleled. It is winter, and the roads south are cold and dark, no other soul to keep him company, the sound of wind against the pine trees and the sound of his harmonica no help to stave off the silence deep in Snufkin's bones.

He knows what he misses, but it is impossible: the boy is asleep, peacefully resting and dreaming of spring. Snufkin wishes he could be the same, to snuggle himself underneath a pile of blankets and ignore the snow piling high outside.

Unfortunately, it is not of his nature to hibernate. His legs itch for traveling, and the warm, warm south is home for him.

Still.

He grabs a handful of pine needles, green against the stark white of the snow that taunts him, stuffs them into a piece of linen (white like him, like the snow that separates them) and leaves it to dry outside his bag. When it dries, he'll braid it and gift it.

* * *

The leaves go underneath a change of color, and Snufkin, lazily waiting for a fish to come to eat the bait he laid out, but he doesn't has high hopes on that happening. They're not green anymore, but a shade of red that reminds him of fire.

He'll have to go north any day now. The braid of pine needles hangs by his bag, and he found enough dried herbs around the places he's gone to make it smell pleasant. Lavender and rosemary, he thinks. Moomin will like that, he thinks.

A leaf falls into his hat, and then Snufkin grabs it before it can reach his chest. He eyes it - maple, red and orange, to a point where Snufkin cannot pinpoint where red begins and where orange ends -, sticks in the band of his hat, and goes back to watching the river pass by.

* * *

When he's back to Moominvalley, he can see Moomin waiting for him in the bridge. The wind rustles the braid of pine needles, rosemary and lavender, and Snufkin walks faster to Moomin's arms.


End file.
